


One Found Wolf

by AlphaElixir



Series: The One [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 18 year old Derek Hale, A little gore, Alpha Laura Hale, Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst, Babies, Basically a werewolf society, Beta's everywhere, Cancer, Cussing, Derek's bunny teeth, F/M, Guilt, Hunters, Hurt Derek Hale, Hurt/Comfort, Incorrect medical shit, M/M, Mates, Mentioned Kate Argent, Mentioned Zayne, Mild to none-existent PTSD, Mpreg, Omega Derek Hale, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Self-Harm, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Shitty waiters, Some Fluff, Some Humor, Stiles coos, Stories of Claudia Stilinski, Touching, Triggers, Upgraded vets office, Werewolf Everyone, googled medical shit, rating for future chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-05-27 21:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6300703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaElixir/pseuds/AlphaElixir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's learning to fit in with the Stilinski pack who's still crashing at the ex-alpha's house. He's getting sick though and when confronted by Dr. Deaton no one is ready for the diagnosis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Look who's ba~ack! I know I said this would be up like a freakin year ago but here we are. Story will probably be sporadically updated on weekends but like you guys know, the more comments on it (even the ones screaming to hurry and update) make the updates faster.

It’s starting to turn chilly, breezes turning just slightly too cold for t-shirts or shorts. The news says a storm is in the making, just a light flurry for the upcoming harsher winter but Stiles feels the dread in his bones. He’s always been more partial to spring than winter or fall. Cocoa, snuggling, and warm fires might be appealing for the first week but after that he’s pretty much ready for warm summer nights shifted under the stars.

He’d hoped Derek’s first full moon would be like that. A little less pent up house arrest and a little more shifted freedom in the woods out back of his father’s house. They’re still hoarded inside while contractors rebuild the den. Stiles carries a tinge of guilt in his scent wherever he goes that the whole pack smells, his dad especially. No matter how often he reassures Stiles that he loves having the house full of laughter and stupid jokes again he can’t erase that stench.

He knows Stiles feels guilty over a lot of things recently; bombarding his father’s house with his pack of obnoxious adults barely out of their teenage years, borrowing his money to finish paying off the contractors, making Melissa cook in such large numbers and do the laundry despite his pack being more than capable and her insistent assurances that she doesn’t mind, and most of all he feels so guilty for letting Derek get taken. He was broken then even if he tries to hide it now it’s still there. The numb, delayed reactions, lethargy, spaced out looks and silence. Stiles knows he’d be better off now, a little more open, a little more happy, a little more _human_ if he hadn’t had to suffer that last little bit before they’d torn Kate and Zayne’s heads from their bodies.

Stiles hates to think about what they did to his mate, how he’d been naked when they’d found him. Absolutely hates to think about it. But when he looks at Derek he can’t help but feel guilty because he knows he could have stopped that from happening. He should’ve been a little more on guard, a little faster. He never should have had to call on another pack to rescue his mate. The fight was easily won though and that’s a blessing in itself that he thanks the heavens for daily. His father holds him tight those nights, when Derek’s not acting okay at all and Stiles notices. John tugs his child to his chest and hopes to cleanse the stench of blame with family but it sticks a little too permanently.

Derek’s learned to hate that scent too. It often gets stronger when Stiles looks directly at him and Derek isn’t under any illusion that it’s not because Stiles didn’t’ protect him from Kate and Zayne that second time. He doesn’t blame him but there are times Derek can’t stand to be in the same room as Stiles directly because of that smell. That putrid, disgusting odor that swirls around his ‘mate’ so frequently that his base scent gets a little overwhelmed with it. It was just yesterday that Derek had walked down the stairs to find the pack crowded into the living room, watching some movie with lots of cussing and a dude in a suit when Stiles had looked over at him, smiled and waved him over. The guilt had permeated the air like White Diamond perfume insistently sprayed in a low ventilated area and Derek’s stomach rolled. He’d had enough time to take a step back and bolt for the bathroom (luckily only a few feet away) before giving the toilet what little lunch he’d been able to tolerate earlier that afternoon. It happed earlier this morning too and many days before this.  

Stiles had been directly at his back in seconds flat, an awkward hand hovering over his back. While Derek had gotten used to sharing a room (not a bed) with Stiles, due to a shortage in available rooms, he’d seemed to take four steps backwards when it came to physical touch. The gentle touches the pack had participated in were met with flinches merely a day after Laura left. It still hit Derek hard to think about. He’d finally had a choice and then he didn’t. He would like to think he’d have chosen to stay with Stiles anyway but the choice was taken before he’d made one, so he’ll just have to deal with not knowing.

It’s not like he doesn’t like being here. Stiles’ pack is nice, caring, and accommodating of his…needs. They’re exceptionally patient with his learning. It had taken nearly two weeks of constant gentle coaxing for him to come to terms with the ever-present-shoved-in-his-face-fact that he has no idea how a ‘normal pack’ is supposed to operate. Jackson had said that much. The remaining pack had nodded. Stiles a little too enthusiastically. But while he’d have to deal with the soft shakes of Erica’s head when he stands to take everyone’s dishes to the sink or Isaac’s slow, calming hand coaxing him to stand when he instinctively kneels in the corner of whatever room he’s in, he can’t say he minds. Because it’s doesn’t hurt. It’s confusing and sometimes he feels like it’s a little too much but he likes it all the same. He likes the smiles and the hesitant touches everyone tries every once in a while. He’s even a bit confused by the subtle jealousy that spikes around Stiles when Laura and Cora are the only ones allowed those unconsciously gentle touches. Which is when he decides he doesn’t really like that smell either and bites his tongue and forces himself to sit closer to Stiles during their movie that night.

He’s just starting to relax when Stiles’ phone starts playing Boss by Fifth Harmony signaling Laura’s nightly call. Derek likes the lyrics, thinks it suits Laura well. Stiles hands him the phone, careful not to let his fingers and Derek’s brush. He takes the phone and stands; goes up to their bedroom like he has every night since the first call, where the walls are thicker, and accepts.

“Hi,” is his stunted answer.

“Hey Der. How are you doing?” Her voice is softer than usual which Derek has noticed means her day’s been long and she needs this little comfort as much as he does. He misses her, misses the soft touches that only she could provide. His repressed and barely present wolf recognized her and he could tolerate her touches more than the packs.

“I’m okay,” he replies. He can never bring himself to go into much detail without a specific prompt and Laura knows this.

“Stiles mentioned you throwing up a lot recently. He says you have a meeting with Deaton soon?” Her question isn’t really a question but her pitch goes a little higher to make it sound like one.

“Yeah, Monday. They want to have me checked out soon after the full moon. I…” He cuts himself off, not sure if he should mention that it has a lot to do with Stiles’ scent more often than not.

“No holding secrets, tell me what you were going to say. Please,” she adds after a beat.

“It’s nothing. I was just going to say that it hasn’t been happening as frequently,” he lies. It’s a good thing she can’t hear his heartbeat over the phone.

“Oh, that’s great Der. Hey, me and Cora were thinking of visiting sometime next month. How would you like that?”

“Very much,” he says a little too quickly and a little too loud. The laugh he gets from Laura though makes him smile. It’s soft yet stentorian, a little manic on the edges and he absolutely adores it. Someone’s happy because of him. He decides he likes that feeling.

“Good, glad to hear it. I’ll set it up with Stiles and have him plan out the day-“ Laura cuts out for a moment, Derek assumes she moves the phone from her ear and presses it into her shoulder. He can slightly hear a muffled conversation take place and a quick cuss leave Laura’s mouth. “Hey Der, I have to go, something came up, let Stiles know I’ll call him back sometime tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he says. She’s about to say something back, probably the usual endearments and such but Derek blurts out, “be careful!” before she can. It shocks silence on both ends.

“I will. Love you Derek.”

“Love you too Laura.”

The phone call ends and Derek wonders what was so important? He’s a little worried but the feeling of nausea churning in his gut has him tossing the phone onto the bed (which promptly bounces off and crashes to the floor and he has a moment to hope he didn’t break the screen) before rushing to the bathroom again for the second time that day. Stiles comes in a few seconds later with that same awkward hand hovering over his back. Derek would roll his eyes if his guts weren’t climbing their way out of his throat.


	2. Full Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The full moon is up and Derek, Lydia, Stiles, and John are stuck inside. Derek isn't better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SORRY!!!!! I was so not planning on taking this long for another chapter. I'm a horrible person I know. I'm sorry guys. I love that you love this story and I just couldn't put it off any longer when I got that message simply asking me to update. Here's a short(ish) chapter about Derek's full moon experience. I hope you all are enjoying the story! Again I love reading everyone's comments, even if I don't comment back, please know that it brightens my day when I see a comment. Anyway, enjoy!!!  
> Oh, and sorry for any grammar mistakes!

His throat is raw by now. Between the howling surging up from his chest that he clamps down on until only a pained whimper emerges and the recent bile residing in the toilet Derek feels like curling up in a ball in the corner and never leaving. Or waking up. Stiles paces a few feet in front of him, worry creasing his face. Derek knows he’s going to wear a rut in the carpet but he’s stressed, he gets that.

Lydia doesn’t care.

“Stiles, you and Derek are grating on my nerves. He can’t help it but you sure as hell can so sit your ass down,” she says. There’s a bite in her voice that Derek knows should never be aimed at an alpha but this pack will never cease to surprise him. Stiles sits. Huffily and with a full body tremor but he does so. Seems the full moon still affects him, at least when he’s unsettled like this. Derek hopes his control is iron tight.

Derek feels that pull again, the slight tug from his chest loosen a little when Stiles flops down next to him. There’s space, enough that they aren’t touching but it’s apparently enough to sustain Derek’s wolf who calms down.

Stiles had fought tooth and nail to have Derek outside for the full moon; had pleaded his large, brown puppy eyes at his father but the ex-sheriff was nothing if not stubborn and immune to them. He’d felt bad, but there wasn’t much choice here. At least in the house Derek could be better supervised. The moon wouldn’t be directly overhead and maybe it would help with his control. Turns out he really didn’t have to worry about control. The wolf, despite surging up his throat every few minutes and constantly howling, hadn’t tried to actually come free. Derek had asked about this the first hour in. Was it normal to not feel it; to not feel his wolf try to shred its way out like previous years? That was about the time Stiles started pacing and Lydia began filing her nails.

“Derek? How does it feel now?” the ex-alpha asked. He walks in from the kitchen, leaning up against the door frame with a sandwich in one hand and a plate of crackers in the other.

Derek would like to say, “my throat hurts a lot. If you could just kill me now I would deeply appreciate such a gesture.” However, he shakes his head instead and with a whine points to his throat. The ex-alpha nods his understanding and slowly walks over to Derek. He hands him the plate.

“You’ve thrown up a lot tonight. Maybe some crackers and water would help?” He hands Derek a bottle of water that was held in the crook of his arm that Derek hadn’t noticed. He accepts both gratefully and downs the water. It’s icy cold, and while it stings the hell out of his throat it feels great all the same. Stiles’ dad leans against the arm of the couch nearest his son and, laughing, nudges Stiles leg. “Maybe he’d like another?”

Stiles appreciates the distraction, despite it being only a small one and goes to retrieve another bottle of water when Derek’s hand shoots out. “What’s wrong? Is it painful? Should we call Deaton? Are you feeling sick again? What’s wrong? Derek? Der?”

Derek shakes his head. He doesn’t know how to explain that he hadn’t meant to do that. “No, I…It’s nothing,” he says instead.

“O-kay, um, I’ll just go get you another bottle. Maybe two,” he shifts a little until Derek let’s go of his shirt. Derek awkwardly sets his hands back in his lap and stares at them. Why had he reached out to Stiles? It’s not like the alpha was leaving him. He knows his ‘mate’ would never do that. He can’t even stand to be in another room without Derek for long. His sister called it the honeymoon phase but put on infinite hold while Derek sorts his shit out. Cora was smacked in the back of the head by Laura for that one.

“Hey, it’s okay. Does it hurt again? Worse?” Stiles’ dad is kneeling in front of him, hands on his calves as he looks up into Derek’s eyes. It’s now that Derek realizes he’s whining again. His throat is still sore but this time Derek can feel it has nothing to do with the full moon just outside. His wolf isn’t howling while he swallows it down, it’s just whining now, crying out like a pup for something. Derek grits his teeth to stop it. What the hell is wrong with him?

“Is it because Stiles left the room?” Lydia tilts her head a little to the side and stops filing her nails. When she doesn’t get a response from either party in the room she asks again, “Is it because Stiles left the room?”

John looks at her then back at Derek. “Is it?” Derek isn’t sure. Maybe it is. Before he has to answer, the subject of conversation comes rushing back into the room with two bottles of water. He hands Derek one and sets the other on the table.

“I heard a little of the conversation. If I’m doing something that causes you pain, you’ll tell me right?” Stiles asks. Derek can’t meet his eyes then. Averts them to stare at a droplet of condensation rolling down the bottle on the table. Maybe if he doesn’t look at the alpha he’ll get bored and go away. Derek knows that’s stupid but wishful thinking usually is.

That scent. That damn scent is back. Stiles smells rancid as guilt spreads into the air. Derek closes his eyes and swallows over and over again to hopefully stave off the upcoming vomit. Stiles doesn’t seem to understand Derek’s new body language and stands. Maybe he’s thinking Derek can’t stand to look at him because it is his fault. Maybe he’s disgusted with Derek. Maybe he knows Derek’s about to puke up nothing but stomach acid and water. All Derek knows is he needs to get to the bathroom now before the alpha and his father end up cleaning the carpet tonight.

He pushes past Stiles gently, head bowed for his actions against his alpha, while dashing for the toilet for the umpteenth time tonight. His stomach is already cramping with the first contraction of his stomach and his burning, overused throat is set ablaze again. Tears are already lining his eyes and his nose is running. There are no longer chunks of food from his lunch earlier that day coming up and Derek isn’t sure if he’s happy about that or not. No chunks are good but at the same time it means all that’s coming up is stomach acid and that’s a vile taste all its own.

Derek pukes until his stomach is empty and he’s dry heaving over the toilet bowl. He knows Stiles is behind him again with that stupid hand hovering over his back. For once he really just wants to punch him. Derek’s heavily breathing, still bent over the bowl with arms propping his tired body up when it occurs to him. He’s angry. It has been a very long time since he’s been angry at anything. With Kate and Zayne, he’d been accustomed to abuse. He’d learned and lived with it, accepted it. He had no room to be angry because he was too busy feeling numb and hopeless.

But now, with Stiles smelling of guilt behind him and knowing that dumb, awkward hand is just hovering over his back in some stupid form of comfort just…pisses him off. He wants to rip that hand from Stiles’ body. He wants to-

“Der? I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry. Are you done? Do you need anything? I brought the water in. Here,” Stiles holds the water bottle out for him, hand shaking just the slightest bit. Derek looks form the bottle to Stiles face, back to the bottle, before grabbing it roughly. He takes greedy gulps and then wipes the rest of the bile and water from around his mouth with the back of his hand. Stiles is still standing in the doorway watching him. The anger he felt earlier is dissipating quickly. Why was he angry in the first place? Stiles was caring for him like a ‘good alpha should’ or so Allison would say. So then why had he gotten mad?

He stands back up on shaking legs and feels a new pounding in his head. “Hey, you okay? I mean I know you’re not _okay_ okay but um, are you better?” Maybe it’s the way stiles stumbles a bit when he talks that grates on Derek’s nerves just slightly that caused his bought of anger? He doesn’t know and right this second he doesn’t care. He just wants to sleep.

“I think I’ll go to bed. I’m exhausted.” Derek says to everyone. John nods his understanding while Stiles looks from him to his dad and back again before agreeing. Lydia is looking at him critically, almost like she’s analyzing him and hell, maybe she is but right now he doesn’t care. Stiles, as the alpha, could command him to sit back on that couch and stay up all night and Derek’s sure he’d disobey that order and head for the comfy, queen sized bed upstairs anyway. It’s weird that he’s okay with disobeying an alpha but he’s 99% sure he would.

 


	3. The Prognosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott is a bad friend-sorta-, Deaton knows what's wrong, everyone is worried and upset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna leave this chapter here, SNS (sorry not sorry) about the wait. I love you all. Please enjoy and those who called what would happen way to go! You knew and now your suspicions are confirmed. Sorry for any and all grammar mistakes.

He hates his best friend. Why he chose Scott that day on the playground he’ll never know. Maybe it was the stupid puppy dog face that screamed for affection, maybe it was the way he waved so enthusiastically at Stiles when they made eye contact. Hell, Stiles doesn’t know why he chose to befriend Scott that day in kindergarten and even though he could give you a long list of reasons they became best friends over the years he himself is questioning that list. What friend does this?

“Dude, your overreacting. It’s just Deaton. You’ve been to the clinic millions of times. It’s one checkup man, Derek will be in and out. You’ll see. Speaking of which, where is he?”

Stiles wants to strangle him. Yes, he’s been there before but never with a context like this. What if something was really wrong with Derek? He needs his best friend there for emotional comfort and stability.

“Out for a stroll with Danny and Isaac. Dude, so not the point. I need _YOU_ there man. What if Derek has some incurable disease or he’s majorly stressed? You know some animals can die from being stressed, not sure if that applies to dogs like it does with snakes…does it apply to mammals?” Stiles looks confused as he ponders his own question and Scott simply shakes his head fondly. Doesn’t matter that Stiles is over 20 now, he’s still that weird little kid that waved at him spastically from across the playground years ago.

“You know I’ve planned this date for a while.  Alisson’s finally got the weekend off and we didn’t plan anything with the pack. We can finally check out that new restaurant in L.A. Besides, it’s not like you’re going alone. Isn’t Lydia and Jackson going with you?” Scott asks. He slides beside Stiles to make his way to the kitchen where he fills a glass of water and starts drinking. Stiles follows quickly behind. He might be contemplating punching Scott in the face.

“NO! They have a date planned too. Going shopping in France cause apparently that’s what they do as a couple,” he says. Scott sets the glass in the sink and turns to give Stiles his full attention.

“Look Stiles. You will be fine. I’ll be back Sunday night but you can call me anytime -don’t cock block man, it’s not cool- and give me an update on what Deaton found. Okay?” Scott takes hold of Stiles shoulders and squeezed lightly.

Stiles is about to swat his hands away and yell some very choice words at him when the door opens and a very happy looking Derek walks in followed by Isaac and Danny, both panting a little in wolf form. Stiles feels the questions burning his tongue when Danny brushes up against Derek’s leg and practically herds him into the Livingroom and upstairs. Stiles looks from the light brown wolf to Scott and back again with the questions in his eyes.

Isaac shifts back. “Derek went for a walk and while we were talking he mentioned that he hasn’t gotten to see our wolves so we shifted and then we started playing. We actually got Derek to participate in a little game of tag. Stupid Danny totally cheated. He took Derek upstairs to change so I could inform you without him hearing. Derek totally responds to the wolves better. He was petting us and growling and generally playing. Things he still has trouble doing he was perfectly fine with when we were wolves.” Isaac’s jittery and bouncy, as if he hadn’t just expended lots of energy outside.

“That’s awesome man,” Stiles replies. He shifts around Scott to talk further with Isaac about his discovery, unwittingly allowing Scott to sneak away before their argument could resume. Stiles doesn’t notice until Derek and Danny are back downstairs and Danny asks about the appointment.

“SON-OF-A-BITCH!”

* * *

 

“Hello Stiles, Derek,” Deaton greets. “Please take a seat on the table.”

“Hey, Doc. So uh, do you need to do another physical or just questions this time? Both? What should we expect out of this appointment?”

Deaton tinkers with something on his computer before turning towards the two with a clip board in hand and a pen. “First I’ll need Derek to tell me what’s wrong, what hurts and so on and then from that information I might need to conduct a physical. Now, Derek what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

“I’ve been sick recently. I’m been throwing up.” Derek doesn’t know how much he’s supposed to say or how much detail the doctor needs.

“Okay, how frequently would you say this is occurring?”

“Um, twice or so a day, sometimes. At least once a day.” Derek watches as Deaton writes something down on his clip board.

“Does it happen at any particular time?”

Derek takes a moment to think. “I guess not. It’s random. Well I noticed…” Derek stops himself before talking about the scent knowing full well it would upset Stiles who’s grip on the seat he’s in will most likely leave permanent marks.

“Derek? I need all the detail you can give me. If it’s something you’re uncomfortable with telling me with Stiles in the room, I can have him leave.”

Stiles looks scandalized from Deaton to Derek. “I mean, yeah if you feel awkward about saying something with me in here I can wait in the waiting room but I’d like to be in here.” Stiles sounds a little hurt and Derek cringes. Fine then.

“It’s okay. I um, so Stiles feels guilty a lot and…” he turns to face Stiles at this part. “You smell guilty a lot too and I don’t know why but the stench is really bad and I get sick.”

Stiles looks horrible and a little guilty again and the smell emits from him. Derek scrunches his nose and tries to hold his breath to keep from feeling sick again. “Sorry Derek, I didn’t know. I’m sorry. Shit, I’m doing it again huh? I um, sorry.” Stiles makes to leave the room but Deaton takes his arm and motions him back into the seat. He sits a little confused. If he’s causing Derek to be sick shouldn’t he leave.

“Derek, I need you to breathe. It’s okay if you throw up.” Deaton hands him an empty trash can. As Derek breathes in the stench hits him hard and before the saliva can fully coat his teeth he’s hurling into the trash can; something foul with red chunks and clear slime.

“Thank you,” Deaton says taking the can back and setting it to the side after glancing into it. Stiles asks to open the window and when Deaton nods trips in his haste to get there. He needs clean fresh air. With his head stuck out the window he wonders if this is what it’s like for Derek. If his smell of guilt is so strong it makes Derek puke every time he smells it, chances are it’s as bad as this, where Stiles is hanging his head out the window.

“Derek is there any other smells that cause this?”

“Not really. I mean it’s not every time. Sometimes it’s just random. I was talking to Laura on the phone when it happened once. Stiles was downstairs.”

“Okay,” Deaton writes something down again before standing and placing the clip board on the table by his computer. “I do need to test a few things out okay? I need to take a blood sample, much like I did the first time okay?”

Derek visibly tenses. Maybe Stiles will help again. “Don’t worry Der, I’m here. You can focus on me.” Stiles sits beside him on the table, hand gently holding Derek’s. He looks over at Stiles and tentatively smiles. Stiles smile is brighter, more friendly and open and Derek will admit he likes that smile.

* * *

 

“All physical reactions are good, eyes and throat are fine and heartbeat is stable. I want to run a few blood tests, shouldn’t take long so the two of you can relax in here until I get back. Stiles, do try to keep all odors to yourself,” Deaton says as he leaves the room. The door closes on Stiles protests.

Sitting alone with Derek is a little more difficult now. All he can think about is how to apologize to the omega for making the last two weeks horrible. How many times had Derek thrown up because of him? Gone to bed early from feeling exhausted because of him?

“You’re doing it again.”

“What? Oh! Oh, sorry, I um…” Stiles moves to the window in hopes that it will lessen the smell. Derek stays quiet and the awkwardness stretches on.

Thank god for Deaton poking his head back in the door. “Sorry to disturb the uh, silence, but Derek, how did the full moon go?”

“Um, the wolf kept howling but I tried to keep it quiet so I ended up whining all night and my throat started to hurt.”

“But you never had the urge to shift?”

“No. On the other full moons I could feel the wolf. It felt like it was trying to claw through my chest and gnaw on my ribs. But… This time it felt more like the wolf was just upset. Stiles sat next to me once and it quieted down a bit if that helps any.” Derek avoids looking Stiles’ way.

“That helps, thank you.” Deaton sneaks back out the door.

* * *

 

The waiting game, also known to Stiles as “personal hell” was apparently a game Derek was proficient at. While he began fidgeting and messing -read fixing- Deaton’s desk items, Derek sits perfectly still and watches him. Stiles assumes he’s thinking something, but what he’ll never know. The dude has eyebrows he never uses. He’s pretty sure if Derek learned to exude some facial expression it’d be a little easier to know what the dude was thinking.

“What do you think is wrong with me?” Stiles only startles a little form the sudden question. He turns to see Derek hunched over, looking more like a kid than he’s ever seen him with his head in his hands.

“Hey now, it’s probably something minuscule like a werewolf flu or something. For all we know it’s just some stupid side effect from the collar being removed or stress induced,” Stiles tries to reassure Derek but it’s hard when he doesn’t even fully believe in his own words.

“But what if it’s something more serious? I just met my family and I like this. Staying with you. I like living here with you and your pack. What if—“ Derek cuts out as tears well in his eyes and Stiles is by his side immediately. The awkward hovering hand finally makes contact with his shoulder and despite Stiles hopes that Derek would lean into the touch he instantly jerks away. Stiles can hear his heart start beating faster and breath coming up short. God, did he just trigger another damn panic attack?

“Derek? Hey, come on, look at me!” Stiles stands in front of him, hands kept at his sides as he leans in close to Derek’s face. “Come on Derek, focus on my voice. Let me tell you a story, focus on that okay?”

Derek tries. He looks at Stiles face but it morphs into Zayne. He feels sick again. His stomach is churning and his head feels light. Zayne just keeps getting closer; he’s leaning down, face to face with him now. Derek wants to scream; he can’t do this again. He can’t always go back to this pack. He just wants Stiles. He wants the alpha that hovers a hand over his back and trips over flat surfaces and flails his arms around even though it scares the shit out of Derek. He wants to give Stiles what Stiles seems to give him. Peace of mind to watch shitty movies (don’t tell Erica) and the comfort of food readily available and the security of a pack that will protect him. He has no doubts about that. He just wants to give that to Stiles to but if he sees this, every time his mate touches him…

Derek can feel Zayne’s breath on his face, can hear the rhythmic heartbeat under the warm chest in front of him.

He needs to breathe. That’s something he hasn’t done in a while and it’s kind of important. Derek tires to inhale but the block in his chest prevents it. There’s darkness invading his vision and he knows that if he doesn’t get air he’ll pass out. Derek thinks he’s done this enough he should know how to get air by now.

“Dude? Come on Der. I’m sorry, I’ll never touch you again, that’s a promise.” Stiles tells him.

“—I’ll—touch you again—promise,”

Derek shakes his head back and forth. He’s too tired and annoyed with his situation now to care one bit about this Zayne. He still can’t breathe. His head’s getting fuzzy and he’s sure he’s swaying now. Zayne brackets his arms around him in case he falls and that’s not a very Zayne like motion. He wants to question it but before he can he falls forward, body cushioned up against a wiry chest he doesn’t remember his ex-alpha having. He can’t lie though, it’s pretty comfortable.

* * *

 

“Derek?!” Stiles knows Derek’s going to pass out the moment he starts swaying so he places his arms beside Derek to catch him when he inevitably falls. Luck is definitely on his side when Derek falls forward instead of backwards. The young omega is pressed into his chest, still struggling for air until he’s out. Stiles just holds him tighter, arms wrapped securely around him, chin sitting on his head. He likes the feel of his mate pressed to him, cuddling almost if he was awake and conscious of this.

“Well, what have I walked in on?” Deaton’s back. Great.

“Um, so I might have touched him because he started crying but it sent him into a panic attack and he couldn’t focus or get air and he may have passed out so…” Stiles flinches when Derek shudders. Hopefully the omega isn't dreaming about before. The last thing his mate needs is more nightmares to remind him of that time.

“I leave the two of you alone for an hour. One hour.”

“Which was clearly 58 minutes too long.”  

* * *

 

He wakes up to sun through the window and florescent lights over his head. He feels tired despite clearly just waking up and still a little lightheaded when he tries to sit up. He moans a little form the pain which alerts the other bodies in the room to his wakening presence.

“Glad you’re awake now. How do you feel?” Derek fully sits up. He’s still in the little room from before, window open across the room, the doctor sitting at his desk, Stiles standing to his right. There are machines now in the room, closer to him than the other two and he starts to panic a little at that. What pain can these machines do?

“It’s okay Der. These are… I don’t know what these machines do exactly but they won’t hurt you. You know I promised to never hurt you,” says Stiles. He smiles at Derek who awkwardly smiles back.

“If you’re feeling better I would like to test something out.” Deaton waits for Derek’s nod of approval before moving the machines in place. “I need you to lie on your back and raise your shirt up.” Derek cuts his gaze to the doctor quickly, assessing his intentions.

He lifts his shirt and leans back. Stiles bites his tongue until he can taste blood in his mouth to keep from growling at the sight. While Derek still looks too thin and frail even for an omega, he can see the improvements living with him has made. The scars that littered his body before are shrinking, slowly healing over time. There’s still a large gash around his shoulder blades that Stiles is curious to know the story of but also very okay with never hearing it. Derek’s muscles have grown a bit from walks and apparently games of tag with his pack. His appetite growing as well.

“Okay, this will feel a little cold.”

Derek watches as Deaton places a device with some kind of gel on the lower part of his stomach. Like he says it’s cold and he shudders a bit form the feeling.

“Deaton, this looks a lot like that thing women do to…”

“Relax Mr. Stilinski, this is merely to get a better look at his stomach. If I don’t see anything with this, I’ll have to perform an X-ray. I would like to test this first—my god,” Deaton pauses his movements and for the first time since Stiles has known him Deaton’s…astonished would be a correct word.

“WHAT?! Did you find something?” Stiles yells. Derek tries to sit up a bit to look at the monitor the doctors staring at but when it shifts the contraption on his stomach Deaton quickly snaps out of it and snatches the device from his stomach.

“I, uh, let me get some stuff together and then I’ll come back,” he dashes from the room after shutting down the machine. Stiles and Derek once again left alone in the back room full with curiosity and dread.

* * *

 

Scott walks in the door with a slight scowl on his face. He’d planned this date for months and it was all down the drain thanks to Stiles’ text.

**_SOS, meeting tonight @ 7 pls come. Need everyone. Emergency . Derek._ **

While he might have just ignored it for a bit Allison had said his date plans could be put on hold, the pack needed him and he shouldn’t be so coldhearted to the pleas of his best friend. Whatever the emergency was it had better be important, damn it.

“Calm down Scott,” says Allison. She places a calming hand on his shoulder as Stiles walks in. Scott has to admit he looks worse for wear. He’s concerned now.

“Dude, what happened at Deaton’s?”

Stiles swallows and shakes his head. “Have a seat, when everyone gets here I’ll explain.”

“What about Lydia and Jackson, they couldn’t make such a short notice flight back.”

“They’ll be on call, somewhere secluded so no one listens in. I worked it out with them.” Stiles runs a hand through his hair which he now notices is getting pretty long again. He needs a haircut.

Scott and Allison take seats on the couch just as Isaac, Danny, and Boyd come charging in. They look murderous despite the melancholy of the room.  Erica comes in looking much calmer.

“What happened?” Isaac demands. Stiles gestures towards the living room and each of them take spots among the room. The Sheriff and Melissa lean against the door frame in the kitchen facing into the room as well. Their work has been hectic recently and they haven’t been home a lot, it shows on both their faces.

“Erica, please call Lydia and put it on speaker.”

The phone only rings twice before a panicked Lydia answers. Everyone can hear Jackson in the background asking about Derek.

“I took Derek to Deaton’s early this morning. He ran a few tests and confirmed something. He says he’s never seen this, it isn’t possible, and he has no idea how it happened. Time frame would make it when Derek was taken from us.” Stiles has to take a deep breath. “He’s pregnant.” There are a few collective gasps from his audience and an “oh sweetie” from Melissa.

“What do you mean he’s pregnant. That isn’t how male people work!” Lydia screeches from the phone. Stiles had said something similar earlier.

“Deaton did an ultrasound. There’s clearly a baby forming and he’s releasing the hormones, Deaton found them in the blood test. Even had him pee on a stick for extra measure. Derek is pregnant. Deaton said it explains the symptoms. Puking is morning sickness though it’s a little extreme. He’s apparently been experiencing mood changes as well but he didn’t tell us. He told Deaton about them. He’s been feeling tired lately as well.

“It also explains the full moon thing. As you know werewolves don’t shift when their pregnant because it could be harmful for the child which is why his wolf wasn’t trying to change. It was howling, or trying to but Derek was keeping it quiet, because I was nervous and that was effecting the wolf. It felt unsafe because I wasn’t staying near Derek. Protecting Derek like I should’ve been.”

“So he’s a little over two months along right? Is this going to be the same as a regular pregnancy despite its…unknown origins?” Erica questions. Stiles sighs again and rubs the back of his neck. Today’s been longer than he hoped and he’s ready to collapse into a coma just to forget it happened.

“We don’t know. By the size we determined it’s probably going to be a 9-month pregnancy but the effects and symptoms may be the same or they could be escalated. His body might morph to accommodate the birthing or he may need a C-section. He doesn’t know enough about it to know if he could exterminate the pregnancy so for now Derek’s stuck with it.”

“Wait, wait, wait. So you’re saying that Deaton has no idea what to do about this? That he can’t even abort it?” Scott asks. He’s seconds away from standing and pacing the room. This is unthinkable. All the shit the kids been through and now this. He has no choice but to have a kid from the bastards that raped him.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying Scotty. We don’t know if it was magic or…or whatever! For all we know they’re sharing a heart right now and killing the baby will kill Derek. We just don’t know!” Stiles is screaming now. He’s frustrated and irritated and he’s ready to quit everything.

“Speaking of which, where is Derek?” Allison asks.

“He um, he kind of freaked out after hearing the news and while I was arguing with Deaton about the results of his tests he started to uh, tear his stomach apart with claws to get the fetus out.” Everyone looks sick. “Yeah, so Deaton said it’d be best to keep him there for a bit.”

“Come here son,” John pulls his son into him, a bear hug Stiles hasn’t had in a while and he misses them. Misses the warmth he got from being so close to his alpha. It’s not exactly the same now but he still appreciates it. “We can work through this like we’ve worked through everything else. One step at a time.”

“Um, not to interrupt this wonderful family moment that must be taking place right now but I would like to state for all recording purposes that neither I nor Jackson will announce this news to Laura. Goodbye now!” The phone goes dead to Stiles' face paling.


	4. Three weeks later...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek's still gone; Everyone's upset...until they're not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever for those few who commented and sorry it's soooo short. But I had absolutely no time this week but I wanted to get something out so here.

There’s a sigh. Clicking from the laptop. Murmurs from the kitchen. Tapping on glass. The patter of rain on the window. Another sigh. Three weeks have gone by. Stiles misses waking up to stare at Derek on the other bed, eyes closed blissfully in dreamless sleep. He misses the hungry, almost greedy, look on Derek’s face when he sees breakfast on the table. He misses that tight lipped smile on the teens face when he finds something funny on the TV.

Stiles probably shouldn’t miss Derek this much seeing as they haven’t actually known each other for very long but he does. He misses Derek a lot. He hasn’t seen Derek since he tried to eviscerate his own stomach. Not exactly the last image he wants of his mate. God, he still remembers when he was in high school and thought for all the world Lydia Martin was supposed to be his mate for life. It’s ridiculous to think about now but back then it was an almost obvious truth. As simple and easy as breathing. But now that he’s met Derek Sties sees just how dumb that had been. Lydia had never made him feel like this. This week and insecure. This scared and upset. She’d never made him feel that proud or that amazed as when Derek had been here.

The typing gets louder, harder, angrier. Laura had arrived a week ago on her own, Cora’s promise to come as soon as possible weighing in the air. She’d slammed down her bags at the front door and demanded to know why he wasn’t answering her calls anymore. Why she couldn’t talk to her brother anymore. The Sheriff had sighed and shook his head while motioning her inside. She’d stomped her heels the whole way through the house to the kitchen where Stiles was trying to silently inch his way out the back door. He’s not ready for this confrontation yet.

There had been yelling. Mostly feminine. Lots of hand gestures and inappropriate language directed at the already deceased. Stiles had felt worn out and exhausted afterward and Laura had been in tears. He’d tried comforting her but she’d swiped human nails at him before shifting and running for the door. Stiles had opened it just in time for her to fly past him and into the tree line.

Since then she’s stayed on the couch typing. What she’s typing is still a mystery but Stiles has stayed as far away from her as possible least her fury become directed towards him. It spikes at random times. Now for instance. Laura slams the laptop on the table before smacking it closed. She leans back into the cushions on the couch, left hand rubbing at her temple in frustration. Stiles is looking out the window behind her but he’s sure her eyes are closed and she’s breathing in a 4-7-8 rhythm.

“Hey, Laura?” Stiles takes a step forward and another once she shows no signs of attacking. “Look, I know you’re taking this hard but it’ll be okay. Deaton will find something.”

“How do you know Stiles? Really? Do you live in the same world as the rest of us? You know, the one where males now get pregnant and innocent people get killed and, oh, let’s not forget the one where kids are taken as sex slaves. He’s pregnant Stiles! If he has to live through the pregnancy do you think he’ll live through the birth? They did this as an experiment and it’s more likely he’ll die from this than live through it.”

“Pessimistic much?” Lydia enters the room like the queen she is and sits gracefully down beside Laura. “Look, sweetheart, we’re all worried and angry and scared. But if it stops us from living our lives how are we possibly supposed to help Derek? Giving up on him now isn’t helping so buck up. Cheer up. Plaster a smile on that face even if it’s fake for his sake. Because he’ll be coming home soon and the last thing he needs is to see you upset or smell the depression in this house. He’ll be feeling worse than any of us and our jobs are to not show how upset we are.”

Laura nods silently. Stiles will never be like her. Be able to say exactly what needs to be said in a situation to make things better. He admires that about her.

“Now, Stiles call Deaton and see how he’s doing and if he’s found anything.” Lydia says. Stiles doesn’t argue.

Laura laughs. “Are you sure he’s the alpha?”

“Believe me. He’s done great things for this pack. It’s just that he gets a little side tracked sometimes or loses confidence or needs multiple pictures drawn out. That doesn’t paint him in the best light either I suppose.” They both laugh.

* * *

 

“Dr. Deaton? Please tell me you have good news.” Deaton’s quiet over the phone. Stiles sounds tired and ready for information, good or bad despite what he said. He’s sounds simply ready for knowledge on Derek.

“There isn’t much I can tell you. Medical wise I think the pregnancy will play out like any other so Melissa should be able to watch over him and attend to problems should any arise. Mentally he’s still a little upset but he’s calmed down for the most part. I’ve run many tests but I can’t find any source of magic or anything that could have caused this. Mr. Hale doesn’t seem to have much of a memory about it which is absolutely understandable but without a hint I have no leads. He should be able to go home in the next week.”

“That’s some kind of good news at least. Why another week?”

“Well, I want to be sure all, um, attempts at self-abortion are through. When I deem him mentally stable he can be released. I’m estimating that for a weeks’ time.”

“Oh, okay. Sounds good. Could I come visit him then? Today or possibly tomorrow. I just really want to see him.” Stiles idly scratches at his shoulder, phone held by a slightly trembling hand. When had he gotten so…invested? When exactly had he started to feel like this over another person?

“Yes. I’ll call you if anything further arises. Until then Mr. Stilinski, please get some sleep. You sound exhausted.” Deaton hangs up the phone before Stiles can say anything else.

When he heads back downstairs it’s to a laughing pack. It’s a sight for sore eyes to be sure. He smiles just at seeing them. Jackson’s got Scott in a head lock, Lydia shaking her head and rolling her eyes while Allison and Erica chant eithers names. Isaac and Danny are cuddled on the love seat laughing at the antics and Boyd and is talking with Melissa and the Sheriff to the side of the commotion, a smile on all their faces as well. Stiles laughs a little as he makes his way down. Maybe things will be alright after all?


	5. Vets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles talk at the vets office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um, I realized that there are some things I neglected to mention about the story and they will be posted in notes at the end of the chapter. Feel free to read through them first. I'm sure everyone has already picked up on it but just to make sure it's all clear ya know?
> 
> Anyway, next full length chapter here. Enjoy. Remember to leave comments and Kudos. As I do with all my stories at some point I'll post my favorite usernames that have commented or left kudos at the beginning of the next chapter! Now, go read my lovelies!

Stiles isn’t sure he’s ready to face Derek just yet. What does one say to their pregnant mate in a situation such as this? Derek doesn’t even see Stiles as his mate. Well, it’s more like he doesn’t really understand what having a mate means. Stiles assumes that Derek doesn’t even feel the mate bond and he’d be lying if he said that didn’t hurt at all. He doesn’t even know how mate bonds work outside of the custom stories he’s heard growing up from other couples. What if all the trauma damaged Derek to the point he can’t feel a bond of any kind?

Stiles sighs as he stomps in the slush on the sidewalk. It had snowed last night, not enough to hinder the roads but enough to cause dirty slush on the sidewalks when the morning sun rose. Stiles had planned to visit Derek yesterday but Deaton had told him to rest and before he knew it he was dead to the world. Even Isaac’s yelling didn’t wake him up. It was close to an hour later that Stiles woke up to loud banging and Scott apologizing for the wall downstairs. His father would kill him yet; Stile was sure of that. He’d left the house around noon, not even five minutes after he found the hole, leaving Scott to face his father when he came in for lunch.

Lately his shifts had been increasing and he barely had time to come home for meals. Danny usually made sure that his meals were already made and warmed by the time he got home since Melissa also had to work during the day. She’d pulled a few double shifts but not enough to cause worry. Both, despite their tiredness, always came in smiling. Stiles has a feeling their empty nest syndrome will come back when the den is remade and they all leave again. He’s a little saddened by that.

The Vet’s office is already full with animals and their worried owners. Stiles can see a Chihuahua inside shaking as it’s owner lifts it into the air and lowers it to her face. Stiles chuckles and sighs. Pet owners are weird.

He opens the door with a chime of the bell above and closes it quickly. The old lady sitting by the door with an older looking cat scowls at him for letting in the chilling air. Stiles ducks to the counter where Deaton smiles at him. 

“Hello Mr. Stilinski, you’re here to see Derek. Come around please,” Deaton says as he gestures for a lady from the back to take over the counter. She’s a young one, maybe 16 or so with Brunette hair and a name tag reading “Meredith” pinned to her shirt. Stiles nods to her as they make eye contact and moves around the counter to follow Deaton.

As they walk down the long corridor he looks around. He’s seen these halls many times over the past couple of years because of either his injuries or Scott’s. He remembers back when Deaton had the “Beacon Hills Animal Clinic.” Even had a little plague outside and a sign. He’s really upgraded since then. It’s more akin to a hospital than that rinky dink clinic. Probably because he takes in werewolves too now. While Deaton had gotten his werewolf health license and degree shortly after werewolves had been found out, he’d kept to only helping local packs and the occasional stray when Stiles brought them. To accommodate his growing client list he had to expand his building as well. And now it’s this monstrous building of hallways and examination rooms with back rooms for extended stays. He even had to hire extended staff including nurses and veterinarians to take care of the incoming animals so that he was always free to attend to the weres. Stiles never understood how Deaton could stand coming into work every day. He should really take a day off now and then.

“Stiles!”

He starts, head whipping around to see Deaton standing by a door to the left. Apparently he’s not paying attention. “Uh, yeah?” He scurries back over.

“This is the room. Derek’s inside. He’s been doing well recently. Eating all meals, resting with minimal nightmares, and though he shows signs of depression and lethargy he’s healthy. I advise you to keep an eye for any signs of discomfort and leave should you spot any. We want Derek to stay calm and relaxed, not stressed. He doesn’t really respond anymore to mentioning the pregnancy which might be a bad thing.”

“Okay Doc, I got it. I’ll be careful and leave at the first sign of discomfort.”

Deaton nods and heads off back down the hall way. Stiles takes a large breath through his nose before exhaling and knocking. When he gets no response he opens the door. Derek sits inside on a small, twin hospital bed. There aren’t any monitors on him but they are hung up on the walls behind him.

“Hey there Derek. Came to visit you. Figured you’d be lonely in here all by yourself. How do you feel?” Stiles asks. Once again there’s no response. “Okay so probably not great but you look better. Not so skinny. That’s probably not all from being in here but it’s noticeable now that I’m looking. Not that I’m looking looking but uh, you know, it’s just an observation that I made.” There is an awkward silence in the room as Derek looks up at him. His eyes are half lidded and void. Like he’s not focused on anything particular. Can he even hear Stiles right now?

“So you’re still upset huh? You can hear me right? Understand me?” Stiles moves a few steps closer. “Derek?” There’s a flash of recognition in his eyes as Derek makes eye contact with him and a small, almost unnoticeable nod of his head. “Okay, perfect. So uh, want to talk for a bit?” No answer.

Stiles sits down next to Derek on the bed, a large space between them. “Okay, I can talk, I’m great at that, and you can listen. If you want to pipe in with something feel free to interrupt me okay? So, uh, when my dad met my mom they say it was love at first sight. He was new on the force, just a rookie, and she was a waitress at the local coffee shop. He’d just so happened to go in one day on her first shift all decked out in his uniform and she said she fell in love with it first. He started flirting and she did too. Real cute story right? Well, they dated for almost two years before he proposed and not even a couple of months after the proposal my mom turned up pregnant.” Stiles stops for any reaction from Derek but he just looks at the floor. He can tell Derek is listening intently to the story.

“She was apparently on contraceptives and they wore protection but she still came up pregnant. She wasn’t sure she could handle a kid at the time and contemplated giving me up. She told me when I was little that she loved me too much near the middle of the pregnancy to let me go. She…she uh, died when I was 11 from cancer.”

“I’m sorry.” Derek whispers. Stiles looks over at him, a few tears blurring his features but Derek’s looking at him, right in the eyes.

“Thanks. I’m sorry too, for your family.”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t remember them at all. Laura’s told me stories about them, but it’s just that. Stories,” he looks back at the floor, hands twisting in his lap. Stiles' chest hurts. He can’t imagine not remembering his mother. Not having her laughing face an imprinted image in his mind. “What’s your opinion on the baby?” Derek rubs at his stomach and Stiles flinches. He’s about to run for the call button on the wall before realizing that Derek’s just rubbing his stomach in gesture to his question.

“I don’t know what to tell you Derek. It’s not a choice right now. If you want to terminate the pregnancy we might be able to and if you want to have the pup, uh baby, that’s okay too. If that is what you decide though, I hope to be considered the father or other father? Do you mind being referenced as the mother? I mean it’s not degrading or anything in fact the mother is the stronger of the two parents usually and… Derek?”

“You want to take responsibility of it? But it’s not even yours.” Derek looks confused at him, unsureness in his features and posture. He’s hunched over his stomach, both arms wrapped protectively around it. Or maybe that’s just what Stiles wants to see.

“Yeah, no doubt. If you have this kid, I’d love to lie about his consummation and say it was us. I’d love to raise him or her. I like you, and if you have a kid I’ll like the kid too.” Stiles isn’t sure he should use the word love just yet, despite the nagging in his head telling him ‘like’ isn’t the right word. But he doesn’t want to push Derek into anything.

“What if it comes out just like her? Or him? Or any of them?” He sounds worried, afraid and saddened. Stiles can understand that.

“They’ll come out like babies. And as they grow up they’ll learn everything from us. That’s how it goes. As long as we raise them right it’ll be fine.”

“What if we don’t? What if it learns something from someone-“

“Look Derek,” Stiles cuts him off before he can conjure up any scenarios. “The baby will come out an open book. And yeah, he or she might try bad things, might get into trouble, that’s a part of growing up, but raising the baby is the most important. And with what you’ve been through I have no doubts you’d be great at being a parent. You already know what it feels like to grow up in that environment and you won’t let that happen to your own kid right?”

Derek thinks it over before shaking his head.

“Then there are no worries. If you have this kid, you won’t be alone. I’ll be right there too. And so will the pack. And if you decide not to have it or not to keep it, we’ll help you find the baby a better home. We’re a pack and that means we support you in whatever decision you make. Of course realistically the decision is based on what Deaton finds out about the spell or whatever that allowed this male pregnancy to happen in the first place.”

Derek turns fully to face Stiles. “I would like to have the baby. I thought that maybe you wouldn’t want to keep me if I had the baby of one of my other pack mate's inside of me but if you want it then I’d like to have it.”

Stiles bites his lip so had he’s sure there is blood he’s just to focused on Derek to notice or taste it. Derek wants to have the baby to make Stiles happy. And yeah, that does make him happy. He’d like to start yelling and cheering but he knows Lydia would hit him upside the head for doing such a thing. What would she do in this situation?

_Don’t be stupid. Verify that he isn’t just making this decision because you confessed it’s what you want. Ask him clearly and make it known that should he get a real decision in this that he will make it based on what he wants. Not you. Your opinion is irrelevant._

Yeah, that’s exactly what she’d say. “Look Derek, I have to know first that this is your opinion. It doesn’t matter what I do or do not want it only matters what you want. Do you want to have this baby for yourself?” Stiles gnaws on his lower lip a bit more, teeth grinding against tender flesh.

Derek nods his head. “Yes. I want to have the…pup.” There is a small smile playing on his lips at the label and Stiles can’t help the manic grin that grows on his face or the arms that swing out and envelope Derek in a hug. It’s nearly five seconds later that Stiles realizes what he’s doing and promptly runs away. His back is to the door and he’s panting hard. Stiles is prepared to try calming Derek down from another panic attack or call Deaton to use a tranquilizer on him but when he focuses on Derek he sees no difference from before. The bed is still there with a confused looking Derek sitting on it.

“Stiles? Are you okay?”

“Not at all. Are you?”

“Um, yeah. I mean, it was…nice. You’re warm.” Derek’s blushing a little now. Stiles is so dumbfounded he almost doesn’t say anything.

“You didn’t freak out. No panicking, no flashbacks, no nothing. Are you okay?” He takes a few steps back towards Derek and pauses.

“I don’t know. I was really surprised at first but it wasn’t bad. A little constricting.”

Stiles doesn’t know how this day could get much better. Derek’s PTSD surely can’t be a ‘thing’ if he’s not freaking out right now right? Maybe he needs to bring it up to Deaton and have that reassessed.

“I hate to say this but it’s about time I head out.” Stiles watches Derek’s face fall a bit. “I’ll be back to pick you up the moment Deaton gives me the go ahead or tomorrow. Whichever comes first. But I have to talk to Deaton about something. Before I go though, can I…can we try that hug again? Without me running for the hills after a few seconds?”

Derek doesn’t need time to think it over. He nods as soon as the words leave Stiles’ mouth. He likes the warmth from Stiles, likes the feel of another human being that didn’t -doesn't- wish to hurt him. He’d though he could only feel that comfortable around the wolves but he had felt good in that ‘hug’ as well. Sure he’d started to breathe a little hard there at the beginning but it had been good after that.

“Cool, um. I’ll just…” Stiles leans down and wraps his arms back around Derek, chin resting on Derek’s head. Derek doesn’t really think about it when he pushes his nose forward and breaths deep. He can smell Stiles’ body wash, something mildly fruity, and the underlying earth tone that’s his base scent. He can faintly smell the laundry soap and the after shave and the shampoo in his hair. He likes all of them. For once, Derek realizes, he doesn’t smell guilt. He really likes this.

Derek moves forward more, to get a deeper whiff, running his nose along Stiles’ jugular to hit his chin. There’s a flinch and then Stiles is backing away, slowly letting his arms drop. Derek panics then.

“I’m sorry. Was that not okay? I didn’t mean to, you just smelled really good and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’s talking fast and he knows it, can sense the dread filling his stomach. He screwed up. Again. What if Stiles doesn’t want him now that he knows how disgusting Derek is?

“Hey! Hey Derek, look it’s okay. I’m not mad at all. I really enjoyed that it’s just that…well I’m enjoying that a little too much. We really have to stop there before I lose control okay?” Stiles smiles at him, embarrassed and a blush lightly tints his cheeks.

Derek studies his face and then smiles. SMILES. There are two cute bunny teeth right up front and Stiles does not go gooey over them. Does not feel the need to coo at the fact that a werewolf has bunny teeth. Nope. Not at all.

Maybe he coos. Derek looks confused and asks about the sound but Stiles will deny it to the day he dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I neglected to touch upon the topic of status's and how they are passed down. Alpha status in this story is passed down willingly, usually when the current alpha feels ready to step down. As the case with the Sheriff and Stiles. You know instead on by death.
> 
> Werewolves were accepted quickly into society (the most unrealistic thing about this story) and Deaton went to school to become a doctor specifically for them. As research was founded he learned. Because werewolves were a recent discovery not much medical is known outside of what the werewolves know. Deaton's small summery is touched upon in this chapter though so...
> 
> Anything about this story that confuses you, please leave a comment so I can mention it and make this story better.


	6. No News is Good News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deaton has found some interesting news and it involves Derek...and others?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY lookie! And update before the weekend! And not seven months away! YAY!! Well, this is the story progressing chapter so enjoy and remember to leave comments. Check back every weekend cause there should be at least one update by then. I'll shoot for two but no promises. I'm a very busy person. :)

There are snowflakes falling in the streetlamps when Stiles gets the call. It’s barely past ten, and the pack is watching some horror movie Isaac had picked up at the store when his phone chimes some generic ringtone. He’s far too into the movie, shoveling popcorn into his mouth when the dialogue lapses and cringing at the severed limbs, to really pay attention to the unknown number.

“Hey, so I’m watching a really good movie so unless someone’s dying, injured, or _dying_ please let me finish this movie---oh god that’s an arm---in peace.”

“Mr. Stilinski? How important would you say this movie really is?” Deaton asks. Stiles pops up from the couch, movie long forgotten, and walks further away from the noise, upstairs to the soundproof walls of his old room.

“What’s wrong? Is Derek okay?”

“Yes, actually I figured you would want to know the news I found out as soon as possible. I’ll be heading over with Derek,” he shuffles the papers in his arms and wrenches the keys from his pocket. “I think he’s fine to go home now, he’s really improved since your visit the other day. Whatever you said to him really helped.”

“I just asked him what he wanted to do. You know, if it turns out he gets a choice. Does he? Get a choice?” Deaton’s silent on the other end of the phone and Stiles can guess the answer. He suddenly feels sick to his stomach. “Okay, I’ll have the pack informed and ready for your visit. Just one more question. Does he keep the baby?”

“I’ll be there soon.” The phone clicks off and Stiles slowly lowers the phone from his ear. When he reenters the living room there are numerous sets of eyes on him. They couldn’t have heard the conversation but he’s sure they picked up on the change of mood.

“That wasn’t a good phone call was it?” Erica asks. She looks tired. There are bags under her eyes and she’s drooping in Boyd’s hold. The rest of the pack doesn’t look much better. Scott and Allison have been so busy with work, dates have been few and far between and the last big outing they planned Stiles called an emergency meeting and canceled for them. Isaac and Danny look the best out of the lot, having stayed home the past week to take care of the house. A social worker probably shouldn’t take so many days off.

“That was Deaton. He’s on his way over with Derek, apparently he found something. Danny, Isaac, could you clean up a little and take the movie out? I’ll call dad and Scott call Melissa. Let her know there’s a meeting in ten and if they can’t make it we’ll call after to fill them in. Lydia, just hold off on contacting Laura. We can contact her with the news in the morning, she should just be arriving back and the last thing I want to do is put more stress on her,” says Stiles. Everyone leaves to do their assigned jobs the others taking seats around the living room and spreading the couch cushions around for those sitting on the floor.

When the doorbell rings Stiles startles. He doesn’t want to admit it but he’s been jumpy since the call, his nerves shot. He’s not mentally prepared for more bad news. About Derek nonetheless.

“Hello,” he says as he opens the door. Deaton stands to the right, papers crammed into a vanilla folder, and Derek to the left. His shoulders are slumped, eyes focused on the ground, and expression neutral. Stiles wonders if Deaton already discussed this with him.

“Hello, Mr. Stilinski.” Deaton enters the house followed by Derek and just as Stiles is about to close the door he spots the flashing red and blue lights off the house across the street. Did his father really use the cruiser to get here?!

Sure enough the cop car whips into the driveway and his father bales out. He worries if he’ll be the one to give his father a heart attack. How often can he take these emergency meetings? He’s not exactly young anymore. It’s been a constant argument that he should quite the force now. Step down and let someone else take the Sheriff’s title. Stiles still worries that one day he’ll get the team coming to his door with the bloody uniform and consoling words.

“Have I missed anything? What’s the news?” John hurries up the steps to his son.

“Nothing dad. They just got here. Come on, get inside and sit down,” he ushers his father inside and lightly pushes him toward the couch were Isaac and Danny slide off to the floor to make room. Deaton is standing in front of the TV and Derek has taken the love seat. Stiles sits beside him. It’s a shock and a relief when Derek inches closer to him until he can lightly lean into his side.

“Well, let’s start shall we?” Deaton pulls a stack of papers from the folder and then spreads those out, covering the table. Stiles leans forward to peer at the papers but it’s mainly graphs and charts, a few pieces contain what looks like printed out emails.

John places a heavy hand on his son’s shoulder and asks, “so what does it all say?”

“I have been looking into male pregnancies since it was discovered in Mr. Hale here and unfortunately there are no documented cases. Through contacting multiple packs across the world I discovered that there has been some science into it. Mostly done by humans in recent years but nothing substantial. Most taking place in Europe or the US. And only in humans. Now, looking into that was a dead end due to their progress. Or for better understanding lack there off. It was during one of these calls that I happened to reach an ex hunter by the name of Brianna Killian age 38. She claims her and her friends were all hunters together and lived by the code back before werewolves were exposed. Afterwards they disbanded but stayed close. It was shortly after disbanding that they met up and she was told that her friends were in on a bigger deal. Money and revenge. While Ms. Killian didn’t feel the same way she did go along to check out the job. It was kidnapping young werewolves. Brianna didn’t go into much detail about the plan but claims she left shortly after and never spoke to them again.

“With this information I decided to look into werewolf disappearances and there is a slew of them.” Deaton shuffles the papers around until he finds the ones with double columns of first and last names. “Each was taken from a medium or large sized family and the method often changed. Some were ‘catfished’ as it’s being called now days, others were simply taken on their way to or from school. Most were tranquilized in large crowds after they were separated from their families. The scent of the tranquilizers was the only thing that explained the disappearances.

“I contacted the families of many of the missing children and they all had similar stories. I called Ms. Killian back and got names from her of the hunters and ex hunters she knew. After contacting them as well I received interesting news that puts this into a larger perspective. Surprisingly, Chris Argent knew the most about it.”

Allison doesn’t look nearly as surprised and she should in Stiles’ opinion. She sighs. Of course it’s her father. After she was bitten in high school her parents had created a distance from her. When Allison started dating Scott she’d practically been thrown out of the house. It’s what happens when you’re the daughter of a hunter clan. She’d moved in with Scott and his mother until Stiles took the alpha status and started building the den.

“Allison, you don’t know anything about this right?” Stiles hates to ask her, knows without a doubt that she would have mentioned any information she had but he has to confirm for the rest of the pack and Deaton.

“No. I stopped talking to him when he kicked me out. I haven’t even seen him since then. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even live in Beacon Hills anymore.”

“You’re right, he lives in Lehi, Utah now. Quite the move if I say so. Anyway, he revealed that a couple of years ago he was approached by fellow hunters who brought up a job offer. The job was to kidnap children weres and deliver them to some destination he couldn’t recall. He declined the offer but mentioned that after eavesdropping on the new hunters, they were part of a larger group recruiting members for the kidnappings. That the children were tested on but he couldn’t clarify how or for what. I have my suspicions that this is a larger problem than just Derek.” Deaton glances around the room to gauge the reactions. It’s a large mix of surprised, upset, and sick. Derek refuses to look up from the carpet.

“So if we are to assume this is all related then the issue is that there is some sort of organization out their kidnapping werewolf children to experiment on them in some way. Possibly through pregnancy? That doesn’t explain Derek’s condition. Why did they leave him behind if they were trying for male pregnancy? What did they do differently that made it work? What is the purpose of it? Females can get pregnant a lot easier and from what you’ve said it’s the same time frame. There’s no point in making it possible for males. I don’t see a gain for them with this many questions still unanswered.” The sheriff sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s exhausted form a 12-hour work day of pouring over paperwork and now he’s playing detective with so little information. There’s no telling if this is all actually connected or not.

“I can’t verify that what happened to Derek has any correlation with the missing children but I do have some compelling evidence. I’ll kindly ask that the sheriff of Beacon Hills turn the other check this once as I did have someone sneak this out of the police department for me. Well, this and many others.” Deaton lifts a cell phone in a zip lock bag from his pocket. He pushes a few buttons through the bag and a voice recording starts. It’s female and Stiles know the instant she laughs that it’s Kate Argent.

“I got it. Give him this and he’ll be fertile. Don’t really see why you want this but we’ll give it a go. As long as you hold up the money side of this bargain.” There’s a long pause before her voice is back. “Perfect. We’ll deliver him in a months’ time if the drug works. Let’s cross our fingers this time because there won’t be a next.” The phone goes silent as supposedly the phone call ends.

“This is a cell phone recovered from one of the bodies of the pack you killed. Why she recorded the call I can’t say but the date on the recording makes it the day before you rescued Derek. It fits with the information I was given.”

Stiles feels sick. There are people out there actively destroying the lives of children for something as meaninglessly ridiculous as this. How many kids are being raped right now for this?

“Okay, I can look into it from the authority point of view. I’ll let you know what I find.” John says.

Deaton nods and assembles the papers before shoving them back into the envelope and handing them over to Lydia.

“I know you’re the researcher so I leave this to you. Use it and all resources to the best of your ability. Use my name whenever you see fit.”

Lydia nods and takes the file. She’s eager to see all the contents on a much closer level. Back in high school it had been Stiles and Lydia doing research making the Bestiary. Once Stiles took over and started expanding his pack she’d taken over the lead role in all researching needs. Turned out she loved it and had quite the knack for it.

“Thank you so much for doing this Deaton. We’ll be personally looking into this further but if you happen to hear anything else please pass the information along.” Stiles stands to see Deaton out but he’s stopped by a hand desperately gripping his pants leg. He turns to see Derek, eyes still focused on the floor but his hand tightly holding on.

“It’s alright, I can see myself out.” Deaton shares a fond look with the sheriff before leaving.

“Well, I’m kind of worn out from the day. Why doesn’t every one crash and we’ll talk in the morning?” To everyone’s agreement Stiles takes hold of Derek’s wrist in a loose grip and together they walk upstairs. They get ready for bed and lie down but right before Stiles can close his eyes he feels the bed dip.

“I don’t want to do anything but can I share the bed? Is it alright of me to ask that?” Derek’s voice sounds so small and unsure. Like a child who just had a nightmare and is asking permission to share the bed of an upset sibling.

“Sure, of course. I’ll just scoot to the edge and you can sleep on that side. No touching.” Stiles’ heart is beating out the rhythms of Africa on his ribcage and he knows he won’t be able to sleep at all tonight but it’s worth it to see Derek’s facial features relax the smallest fraction in the moon light. “What uh, what made you decide to sleep here?” He can hardly be blamed for being curious.

“I don’t feel safe alone. What if someone finds out I’m pregnant and comes back for me? I don’t want to leave you guys again.”

“Oh Der, that won’t happen. You are safe with me, with us.” Stiles slowly reaches his hand out and grips Derek’s hand. He watches as Derek falls asleep and hours later he drifts off himself. It’s a wonder he falls asleep at all with his heart beating so fast and his wolf howling so loud in his own head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As mentioned here are my favorite usernames from both the Kudos and comments section. 
> 
> Livingtobeotaku  
> Leela  
> DerekTheTinySmolAlpha  
> 5up3erwoman  
> AFreshStart  
> AnotherReader  
> fanpire109  
> Ithinkdauntless  
> LadyTooru
> 
> However thank you everyone who's left Kudos or commented before. I appreciate all attention my works get. I LOOOVE YOU ALLLL!!!


	7. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fancy Restaurants and Shitty waiters who don't get the hint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH GOD! GUYS I HAD THOUGHT I POSTED THIS WEEKS AGO AND THEN I COME ON HERE AND IT WAS SAVED AS A DRAFT!!! I AM SOOOO SORRY!!!!

They decide not to tell the pack of Derek’s decision on the baby just yet, and by association, to leave Laura and Cora out of the loop as well. Hell, Stiles hasn’t even told them about the fetus growing inside their brother. Where he’d wanted to push the dirty work onto Lydia, she’d vehemently denied the responsibility. So Stiles does what he’s known best to do in situations like this: ignore the problem until it goes away. Or in this case until the proverbial cat escapes the bag in a rage of fiery fangs and sharpened claws.

Laura had called earlier in the week to announce her arrival back in New York. Stiles had held a small conversation with her full of random facts and half truths about Derek. He’s just lucky Laura doesn’t know him well enough to catch on to the defensive mechanism he has of deflection by arbitrary facts. She’d hung up a little disappointed at not being able to talk to Derek but all in all Stiles called it a win-win.

Derek had been asleep upstairs but hours after the phone call, just as Stiles had sat on the couch with a small bowl of popcorn and an ecstatic Isaac---who was finally getting to see the new Deadpool movie---they heard the tell-tell sign of Derek rushing into the bathroom and the purge of his empty stomach into the bowl. Isaac signed. Usually he would let Stiles, as Derek’s mate, handle the comforting, but he can see the stress lines on his alpha’s face and the tiredness in the chocolate irises. The light brunette has no doubt that Stiles would fall asleep soon after the movie started.

So he pats at his arm gently and says, “I’ll do it this time. We’ll try the pickled ginger. You stay here.” It’s a true testament to his exhaustion that he doesn’t fight Isaac on it but rather squirms further into the couch and idly watches the previews on the screen.

Isaac collects the homemade jar of pickled ginger from the cabinet and takes the steps two at a time, already dreading the smell and the sounds. He’s always felt queasy around puking people. The stench of the bile hits his sensitive nose the moment he tops the stairs and the sounds of watery acid splashing into the bowl has Isaac’s stomach flipping. He questions volunteering for this.

“Derek? How ya doing?” he asks. The door is wide open, a frail Derek leaning over the rim of the toilet bowl with both arms wrapped around his midsection rests inside. Isaac steps forward but hesitates a moment to hold his breath.

“Just-“ Derek dry heaves into the bowl again and a couple seconds later moves to the side of the toilet. “Just fine.”

He sounds exhausted too. He’s not really surprised after throwing up nearly four times today. Stiles had called Melissa at work to inquire about it and was given the simple answer that most pregnancies differ for each person but otherwise it’s pretty normal. Just give him plenty of water and anything light to keep on his stomach.

“Let’s get you back to bed then you can try the this,” he gently shakes the jar and lifts his lips in a pseudo smile. Neither of them thinks it’ll work but anything has to work better nothing.

Derek nods and stands on wobbly legs. They trek back into the room and Isaac covers Derek under the covers. He opens the jar and hand feeds Derek a few pieces before closing it up and setting it on the bedside table. “In case you need more.” He says good night and closes the door. When he makes it back downstairs his alpha is sound asleep, head bent at an awkward angle that’ll have his neck throbbing tomorrow. He lightly pushes Stiles over and drifts one of the throw blankets on the back of the couch on top of him. He takes out the movie and sets it gently back into the case before dumping the untouched popcorn into the trash. Their only night without the pack and everyone he could spend it with is exhausted. He likes spending time with Derek but it’s few and far between that Derek can to do anything but rest. Isaac would love nothing more than to spend time with is alpha but recently Stiles has been anxious and tired. Which is validated by recent events but he wishes they could do something like they used to. He kind of thought the movie night would do but that’s been canceled too. He turns lights off as he heads upstairs to his shared room and gets ready to sleep at only 10pm.

* * *

 

The morning is a chaotic mess when Stiles awakes. There is the smell of burnt something from the kitchen, pans clattering onto the tiled floor, and two full shifted wolves come bounding down the stairs clumsily, claws clicking on the hard wooden floors. Stiles sighs. He can feel the start of a headache forming in his temples.

The wolves yip and bark back toward the stairs where his mate stands, a little uncertain of himself. He takes a few steps down the stairs cautiously and when he seems unfazed by anything continues down the rest. Stiles finds the behavior odd.

“What’s with all the noise?” His voice isn’t harsh in the least but by the violent flinch from Derek he thinks maybe his word choice sounded a little annoyed. “What’s burning is a better question,” he says. He’s sidetracked by the smell and lifts himself like an old man off the couch to meander into the kitchen where he finds his dad hovering over the sink with the garbage disposal on and raking something into it. He supposes it’s the remains of a ruined breakfast.

“Look at you trying to cook. What’s the special occasion? Melissa’s getting breakfast in bed isn’t she?”

“Hey kiddo, glad to see you’re up and nosey.” John clangs the pan into the sink after turning off the disposal. He chuckles as he turns around. “And for your information it _was_ b &b but not anymore. Safe to say I’m no better in the kitchen then I was with Claudia.”

Stiles grins forlornly. It’s both nice to hear his dad able to talk openly and familiarly about his late wife as it is sad. Every time his mothers’ name comes up a dull ache hits his chest but he’s glad his father can laugh and joke about her now and he tries when he can to do the same.

“Well, I can’t do anything about breakfast but what about going out tonight? As a pack. A pack dinner. It’s been a while since we’ve all left the house for anything.” Stiles examines the remains of the skillet and spatula before rocking back on his heels. He still has no clue why his dad was trying to cook but it must be something important if he was willing to burn the house down to do it.

“Do you think that’s a good idea? What about Derek?” he asks. As if summoned by the mention of his name Derek walks into the kitchen, a light brown and blonde wolf trailing behind him. They nip at each other and then at Derek’s shirt tail. He half grins and swats at the blonde one who darts back into the living room.

“What about me?” Derek sounds so unsure of talking still. Like he’s still not used to being able to talk freely. Stiles chest hurts again. It’s a more constricting feeling than before.

“We were thinking of eating out tonight.” Stiles replies. He watches as Derek’s eyes gloss over and for a second Stiles feels like sighing because really? What doesn’t set him off? The familiar panic sets in as Derek seems to space out into another flashback.

_You will absolutely love todays lesson. I know you’ve had to deal with all those rough males for days but today let’s try a more feminine touch shall we?_

_Her voice is syrupy sweet and Derek likes it. She sounds so much nicer than the other people that come in. He makes eye contact with her and her smile widens. She has pretty eyes. He likes the way she smiles._

_Come here sweetie, eat me out._

_She reclines back, lifting her skirt up. Derek tilts his head to the side. What is he supposed to do? The pretty woman seems to notice his confusion and slowly instructs him. He feels sick and disgusted the entire time._

Derek can feel fur, warm and soft, against his back and the front of his calves. Can feel the plush and used couch under him and smell the burnt food from earlier. He has to focus on anything else because he is not there. Kate is not here and he is not under her control. Derek takes another deep breath. He can smell Stiles’ body wash and his scent. But over everything is the guilt. It clouds his mind and closes his throat. He shifts and pushes away anything close to him in attempts to rid the smell from his immediate area but it seems to grow stronger. He doesn’t know what to do to get away from it. It’s always there, always…no. There had been a time the smell was gone and only Stiles remained but when and why? He’d done something…A hug. He’d hugged him.

“Derek?” Through his muffled mind he can faintly hear Stiles’ voice call out to him. Letting the voice lead the way he leans forward and wraps his arms around the familiar body. It’s toned yet lithe and light. Comfortable in his arms.

Stiles is surprised for a moment, his brain short circuiting until something snaps back into place and he wraps his arms around the scared omega and grips tight. He’s not at all prepared for the mumbled words from his mate.

“It’s not your fault. I’m okay. I just, it sounded familiar but I’m okay. It’s not your fault, promise.”

The alpha feels like he might break. This is worse than a kid comforting a kid. So much worse.

* * *

 

Derek had agreed in the end to try going out to a restaurant to eat. They decide on a fancier restaurant than usual due to Melissa’s advancement at work. Stiles offers to pay but his father will hear nothing of it. After arguing for a minute the Stilinski men decide to split the bill.

Boyd shakes his head at the two and heads upstairs to see how Derek’s doing getting dressed in a suit loaned to him from Jackson. The girls plus Danny hog the bathroom and as he walks by he can hear the giggles and laughter. Erica being the loudest. He smiles to himself.

“Look this way Derek, we have to keep it in the middle.” Jackson gently moves Derek’s chin back over, causing green eyes to stare intently and insecurely at him. “I’m almost done.”

Boyd enters the room about that time, a low whistle sounding. “Lookin’ sharp there Derek.” The blush his comment creates has him chuckling it. “You’ll hear a lot more of that when you head down stairs trust me.” Derek averts his eyes.

“No, look straight.” Jackson chastises again.

When the girls are done nearly half an hour later they descend the stairs one by one. Allison goes first, her floor length red dress tightly fitting around her waist and hips, her black four inch heels and the glittering red sequins across her chest have Scotts jaw on the floor. Lydia struts her way down the stairs in a smaller dress, a deep blue with black Stilettos and a black handback gently secured on her right shoulder. The dress is short but modest with silky lace sleeves and a deep V in the front. Jackson smiles as she comes down. Erica comes after in a skimpy but classy deep purple dress, barely reaching the tops of her thighs and without sleeves. It’s a very Erica-esque dress Stiles decides.

When Derek comes down it’s in a black tux with dark silver lining the cuffs and down the threads in the front. He’s uncomfortable in the clothes that’s easy to see, but when he looks down at Stiles and sees the clear…something in his eyes he relaxes a fraction. Stiles clearly likes it. The sleeves are a tad too long but they fit nonetheless and his tie, thanks to Jackson’s persistence, is perfectly straight.

Stiles feels the pounding in his chest and the incessant voice in the back of his mind nearly screaming, _matematemateminemineminematematematemine!_ He quietly tells it to shut up and mind his own business. Then he quietly questions how he can tell his own mind to mind its own business and then he’s just really confused and really horny. Cause Derek in a suit that fits his body so well is a major turn on and he’s not seventeen anymore he really needs to control his own bodily urges.

Similarly, John’s mind seems to be in the same state when the woman of the hour emerges in a tight fitted glittering light blue dress. It hugs her body at every curve and though she can’t strut heels much anymore, she’s confident in the almost flats she has. Her smile is what completes the look and when she gets down the stairs she gives a little twirl to show it off to John who stands speechless. 

The moment they enter the restaurant Stiles is instantly annoyed. The entire staff seems to be werewolves and the greeter by the door, after taking a quick sniff to assess the number of people in the party seem to smell the omega of the group and instantly it’s all false smiles and sugary words.

“Hello there, party of 12 with a special guest?” The man has to be in his late 30’s at least. Stiles steps in front of Derek.

“Yes, party of 12.” His voice is clipped and Derek barely keeps himself from backing up a step to get away. The man escorts them to the table and waits a moment to see which chair Derek claims before beating Stiles to pulling out his seat. Derek stands perplexed before sitting down. The man hands him a menu first and says, “Theo will be your waiter but should you need anything, please feel free to call me over.” The entire sentence is directed at Derek. Stiles grips the table to keep from growling at the man. He walks away after lingering by the table for a few more seconds.

Lydia, seated next to Stiles, leans over to whisper in his ear. “Look Stiles, I know that was uncalled for but you need to hold yourself together here. You can’t have an outrageous outburst in a place like this.”

Stiles nods and opens his menu a little too roughly. Derek eyes him from the side and mimics his behaviors. It’s his first time in an environment like this and he doesn’t want to do or say anything that could upset his alpha more than he already is. He has no idea why Stiles dislikes that man but it’s clear he does. He won’t be asking for him to come back over, that’s for sure.

“Here, Derek,” Stiles moves his menu over so Derek can see it clearly. “This is all the food this restaurant serves. You look through it and pick what you want to try. When the waiter comes over you tell him what you chose and he’ll take the order to the kitchen where they make the food and bring it out to you. Does anything look or sound familiar?” Stiles pauses a moment, questioning if Derek had even been taught to read.

“I don’t recognize anything. Could you pick something?” he asks. Stiles assumes then that he has been taught somehow and nods.

“The steak sounds good. Comes with potatoes and steam vegetables. Ah, but that’s probably a little too hard on your stomach. Um…” Stiles flips a few of the pages and stares hard at the menu. Derek watches him, reads a few of the items and scans the pictures. “How about soup. They have a vegetable soup here. That should be easy on your stomach and it’s healthy.” Derek only nods. Anything sounds good right now. Well, if he’s being honest…

“Could I get something with meat? I really want meat.”

Stiles stares at him surprised before clearing his throat and looking back at the menu. Must be cravings. He knew they’d start sooner or later. “Sure. Um, any specific kind of meat?” Stiles flips through the menu again. Just as he’s about to describe the choices to Derek their waiter walks over. Stiles looks up at the young voice.

“Hello, I’ll be your waiter for the evening. My names Theo. Could I get you anything to drink?” He’s somewhat casual for such a fancy restaurant. He surveys the pack before locking eyes on Derek. His smile turns feral and Derek quickly turns away. Theo looks back from his notepad to Derek after taking everyone else’s drink orders. Stiles orders two waters and glares at Theo as he leaves.

The pack idly chatters with each other as they decide of food choices. Stiles continues to read off menu items containing meat to an apparently very picky Derek. Its’s not long before their waiter returns. After handing out the drinks he leans back and asks if they are ready to order. Once again his eyes lock on Derek.

He leans down a little in order to talk a little more privately to him. “Need a little help there cutie? I suggest the lamb. Our cook slowly roasts it over vegetables in a savory sauce. It’s real tender and falls off the bones.”

The waiter, Stiles notices, is near their age, somewhere in his twenties, light blonde hair and blue eyes. Typical beauty. Stiles grips the table, definitely leaving indents in it, in an attempt to keep from clawing the sea pupils from the jerk. His eyes follow the way Derek licks his lips while the guy describes the dish. Not okay.

“Excuse me, I think I’m ready to order now,” Melissa says. She’s obviously clued in on Stiles’ anger and is attempting to distract the waiter away but the man falsely smiles and grabs his notepad, never leaving the spot behind Derek’s seat.

“Sure, what shall it be?” He jots down each person’s order until he gets to Stiles. His smile turns into a smirk. “And for you sir?” Stiles meets his glare.

“I’ll take the steak, rare. And for my mate here, well, you’re right the lamb does sound good doesn’t it?” Stiles looks over at Derek who looks down at the table and nods. “And the lamb for my mate.” The waiter doesn’t seem the least be deterred, much like the greeter from earlier.

“Good choice sirs. I think the lamb is by far the best choice. You’ll have to let me know how you like it. I’ll tell the cook to make yours special.” The waiter leans down over Derek’s shoulder to grab his menu and inhales deeply. His eyes flash.

Stiles has had enough. “Look, man---“

Lydia grips his arm tightly as the waiter walks away having apparently not heard his small outburst. “I’m telling you this once, shut up. Derek’s fine. It’s harmless flirting. Beside you can’t openly claim him as your mate and have it recognized without the bite mark which everyone knows Derek doesn’t have. His scent doesn’t say it. So chill out. As long as it doesn’t disturb Derek,” she says. Stiles wants to protest but the fire in her eyes tell him he’d lose in a heartbeat if he tried. He hates that she’s right though. He could scream from the rooftops that Derek is his mate but without that bite mark his scent won’t change and any claim won’t be followed. Any time Derek leaves the packs protection he’ll be under constant attack from potential suitors just wanting to claim him. At least until the scent of pregnancy kicks in. Then Stiles had no idea what werewolves will try.

Stiles growls softly. Derek’s flinch next to him goes unnoticed. The omega thought this was supposed to be a nice outing to celebrate something Melissa did but it’s only agitating the alpha. Derek doesn’t like it when Stiles isn’t happy. He leans back in his chair and stares at his hands intertwined in his lap.

“Well, why don’t we talk about Derek. I know I’m not around much lately because of work but I hear he’s been playing around with the wolves?” Melissa asks.

“Yeah! We were playing this morning before cranky woke up.” Erica smirks over at Stiles. “He’s doing great. He even swatted at me. The omega’s getting some nerve.” She watches as Derek tenses up and the way he grips his hands a little tighter where they set in his lap. She moves her foot and taps his and when Derek looks at her she smiles. His muscles relax minutely.

“You should have been there when we were playing tag. He actually tripped me.” Isaac pops up.

“Ha, but you crashed into the tree all on your own didn’t you?” Erica leans forward to glance at Isaac who turns a light shade of pink.

“Shut up, Erica.”

“Aw, but the resulting sneeze was cute.”

“Shut up.”

Derek watches the way the betas interact and smiles the tinniest bit. Stiles notices and he smiles larger, looks proud of his pack. Of his mate. In such a short time they’ve reached a smile milestone like this, imagine where they could be in a years’ time. The thought triggers an image of the pack, a young 19-year-old holding a new born baby in his hands and his arms wrapped around his mate. The smile that stretches his face is almost manic. He wants that future.

“Here’s your food. I hope it meets your expectations.” Theo’s back with a large tray of food. He passes the food around to each individual but of course when he hits Derek he leans over his shoulder again and this time, as he pulls his arms back he lightly drags them over his shoulders. Stiles watches Derek cringe away from him before standing, his chair clattering to the floor. He fists Theo’s shirt and pulls him forward.

“Touch my mate again and see what I do,” he growls in his face. Theo finally looks rightfully chastised and leans away from him.

“Look, sorry man. But come on, he’s not mated to you. His scent is still his. And he hasn’t said anything yet so I figured I was good to go. I’d have stopped if he said something.”

Derek curls further into himself. Stiles is fighting his battles because he didn’t tell the guy to stop? But he can’t. That’s against the rules. He isn’t allowed to say no to anyone, pack or not. Right?

Stiles steals a glance back at Derek who’s curled into himself. He’d only wanted Derek to enjoy a new experience but he’s not enjoying himself right now. Maybe it was a little too early to take this big a step.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?” The man from earlier approaches, a slight frown on his lips.

Stiles contemplates siting back down and apologizing so that the evening can continue for Melissa’s sake or punch the asshole in the face and storm out. He doesn’t have to decide though.

“I think it’s about time we leave. It’s clear that the employees here don’t have enough respect to cater to the Stilinski pack.” Melissa stands from the table, folding her napkin and placing it back on the table. The rest of the pack follow her lead one by one until only Stiles and Derek are left. Stiles looks to Derek, knowing he’s partially responsible for the ruined evening. He offers Derek his hand and hopes that he’ll forgive him by taking it.

Derek isn’t really sure what Stiles is doing, much less trying to prove, but he knows he’d rather stay with Stiles than in this place. He doesn’t like the male’s attention so he takes Stiles’ offered hand and stands. Theo, their waiter, bows, apology on his lips, but it’s cut off by Stiles. “I don’t care what you say right now. Maybe I’m being petty but you made Derek feel uncomfortable on his first night out anywhere because you couldn’t read his body language. How he looked down, and leaned away from you or flinched when you touched him. Anything you say now will most likely lead me to punching you in the face so why don’t we leave on silent terms?” Stiles pulls Derek close and when the action isn’t rejected puts his arm around his waist. Derek seems to lean into the touch and Stiles smiles.


End file.
